Love With A Hidden Agenda
by Jane Doe Smith 9
Summary: Cammie's world is flipped upside down as she tries take down the COC and figure out how to solve the constant confusion and many secrets between her and Zach. DISCLAIMER: I OWN NOTHING! Ally Carter does!
1. Capture

_Cammie looked at herself in the dirty, cracked mirror. Her dirty-blond hair lay in a tangled, limp bun on the side of her head and dark circles looked like bruises under her sunken, tired eyes. A long, deep cut was bright red with fresh blood. With a sigh, she tore some paper towel from the role and held it under the trickling water. Gently, she started washing off the dried blood and grime from constant travel the past few days. She knew Zach was looking for her and she knew she couldn't stay long. It pained her heart to know that she couldn't explain why she had run away from the school, from him. She blinked back tears and concentrated on cleaning herself. _

_ Her stomach rumbled pathetically, unused to the lack of food compared to the lavish meals the Academy had provided every day. Her mouth filled with water simply thinking about the Chef's famous Belgian waffles and crème brulee. Shaking her head at herself, she forced herself to think of other things. She looked around at her pitiful surroundings. An abandoned apartment building provided a quiet place for rest. The bathroom was disgusting to say the least. The stall doors were either missing or hanging loosely on hinges, and several layers of paint showed through in varying places. The floor tiles that remained were chipped and broken, as was the single remaining mirror and sink. The entire room was a sickly yellow, which paled her reflection even further and gave her an ill glow. _

_ This was not what she thought would happen. Had she expected three meals a day with comfortable lodgings every night? No. But anything would have been better than this. There was a tiny hissing noise. Spy senses alerted, she silently crept to the source; a tiny hole in the door. There was a slight change in the air, an odor? It reminded her of something, from the labs, at school. Her eyes rolled back into her head and she fell to the ground, unconscious._

"I'm sorry, but it had to be done." I groaned and winced at the sound of his voice. Slowly, I opened a single eye. Worst fears confirmed, I shut it again and tried to cover my face with my arm. A new feeling aroused: Confusion? I quickly opened my eyes and looked down at my hands. They were chained to the small gurney-like bed I was on. Shocked, I turned to my perpetrator with wide eyes.

"Yeah, sorry, but those were necessary, too." I glared at him.

"Let me go, Zach." I growled.

"That would defeat the purpose," he replied with a smirk, his eyes smoldering with humor. I scowled once more, and looked away.

"Hungry?"

I shrugged. Not willing to give him the satisfaction he wanted. Unfortunately, my stomach had other plans as it rumbled loudly. Blood rushed to my face, but I continued to stare determinedly at the cracks in the dry wall. He chuckled.

"How about I let you up if you promise not to run away?" he proposed, then added, "Again." I turned and met his eyes, pain colored them. A small lump rose in my throat as I nodded.

His gentle fingers worked on my wrists, there were two quiet clicks, and found myself free again. I sat up on the edge of the bed and rubbed the feeling back into my hands. He turned away, walking toward a black bag in the corner, giving me a chance to glance around the room free of scrutiny. We were still in the old abandoned apartment building, cracked ceilings, walls, and floors. There was a single window, curtains had once covered them, but now only ripped shreds were left, showing the dark glow of night.

Slowly and silently, I slid off the bed and crept over to the window. Everything left of the city lay sprawled beneath us, lampposts and headlights looked like small specks of light in the darkness. A warm breath sighed in my ear. Startled, I jumped back, turning as I did so. Zach didn't meet my eyes, but settled for wrapping his strong, warm arms around my waist and resting his chin on my head. I closed my eyes and breathed deeply, his cologne intoxicating my senses. Sighing, I rested against him.

"No offense," he started with a low chuckle, "but you smell." I tried to push away from him, but his arms held fast. I looked up at him, he was smiling at me.

There was a tiny, nearly silent, creek from outside the door. We froze. I looked up at Zach, the question clear in my eyes. He shook his head, the smile gone from his face. I tried to read his expression, confusion knotting my stomach, but it was a blank mask, unreadable.

"Zach?" I asked slowly, my voice breaking. He looked away, his eyes turning black, and stepped back, away from me.

"I'm sorry."

The door swung open, revealing two masked figures. They wasted little time and charged. Breaking through my shock, instinct kicked in. I had managed to land a single punch on the first perpetrators nose, blood streaming from it, before the other grabbed me firmly. Bloody Face grunted and reset his nose with a sickening crack.

"Look'ee 'ere," he growled, his accent thick. He moved his face close to mine, putrid smelling waves assaulting me with every breath he exhaled, "Thought you'd get away did ya'?" I flinched back, away from his gnarly breath and repulsive grin. His fist connected solidly with my gut, and I doubled over, gasping in pain. Bloody Face grabbed my hair and pulled my head up to look at him, tears blurring my vision.

"'N there's plenty more where tha' came from," he snarled, "'member that nex' time you wanna try some'fin funny." He laughed and released my hair with a push. A tiny sob escaped my lips and bile rose in my throat.

"Let's go." I had forgotten Zach was here. I looked up, glaring at my traitor. The man holding me pushed me forward toward the door. Bloody Face opened the door and lead the way down the hall and nearly pushed me down the several flights of stairs.

The cool night air felt good in my churning stomach and helped to clear my head. The guy holding me had loosened his grip slightly and Bloody Face had his back to me, apparently looking from something down the old abandoned street.

I relaxed my shoulders and shifted my weight subtly. Taking a deep breath, I stepped back quickly, twisting my arms out of his grasp and landing a swift kick in his kidney. Bloody Face turned, but I didn't give him the time to react, jumping and thrusting a foot against his neck. He made mad grabs, one hand on his neck and the other reaching blindly before he finally passed out on the cold pavement. I turned to run and found myself staring down the barrel of a gun.

"Do not move."

"Zach, put the gun down."

"Sorry Gallagher Girl, I can't do that," he said strained, smirking for a split second at the old nickname.

"Why, Zach? Why do you have to do this?" A single tear making its way down my grimy face as I looked at the man I had loved.

"Don't cry Cam," he pleaded.

"What do they want from you? From me?"

"I can't explain now, but I promise I will, someday," he whispered, lowering his gun and stepping close and reaching for my hand. I jerked it back, watching hurt seep into his green eyes.

"Give me one reason I should trust you." I spat at him, angry at myself for letting that tear escape. He stepped back again, raising the gun once more as headlights swept around the corner and came towards us at alarming speeds. I squinted against the bright glare.

"You can't trust me." He whispered almost so low I couldn't hear it. Dark figures jumped out of the van and grabbed me, pulling me into the van and leaving Zach standing on the sidewalk, his face a mask once more.

**A/N Please, PLEASE(!) let me know what you think! Goode & bad, all opinions are greatly appreciated! :)**


	2. Interrogation

The van was cold and the metal seats were hard, digging into my back. A single tear slid silently down my cheek in the darkness. My whole body was numb; the only thing functioning was my brain; 73 seconds… 74… 75… right turn …77…

No one spoke. The only sounds to be heard were the gentle purrs of the engine and the heavy breathing of someone sitting directly across from me. It left way too much time for thinking. What was Zach doing now? I could still picture him, standing on the sidewalk in the cool night air. Watching. Watching them take me away with eyes of cold, hard black. But there was something else, the slightest hint of… remorse? Perhaps. I shook my head at myself, now was not the time to think about such things. The present situation was obviously more important to my welfare.

Another right turn… 365…366…367…

Monotony began to set in. Seconds ticked by slowly, minutes seemed like hours. Exhaustion from running seeped into my bones, spreading throughout my body. My eyes began to droop and, despite the uncomfortable conditions, I fell asleep.

Every spy has a time in their life when it seems that nothing can go right. Brush pass is too sloppy, comms unit goes out, lose a target in the crowd. It's an awful feeling, truly "bloody awful" as Bex would have said. Bex. Where was she? Had she seen the journal? Questions pummeled my brain until I was wide awake.

The apartment building. The van. Zach. Zach! I groaned inwardly as it all hit at once. My eyes flashed open and were met with searing bright lights. Jamming them shut again, I groaned out loud.

"Well what do you know," a voice sneered, "she really is alive." Another person snorted on the other side of me.

"Cameron?" the other man asked, "Cameron can you hear me?" Being the spy that I am and the incredibly stubborn person that I can be, I didn't respond.

"I'll take that as a yes," he remarked sarcastically in a surprisingly friendly voice. I opened one eye a tiny slit and glanced through my eyelashes at the speaker. He was relatively short, around 5 feet, 8 inches was my guess, and somewhat of stocky build. He had thinning, graying hair and spectacles that made his eyes look extremely large. Overall, his expression was quite kind as he looked down at me caringly.

"Who are you?" I asked, breaking the silence, "where am I?"

"I will be the one asking questions here, Cameron," the other man retorted. I glanced over at him. He bore a slight resemblance to the older man, although he was slimmer and seemingly unkind compared to him. This man had thick, dark hair and looked, as Macey would have said, "way buff."

The corner of my mouth lifted a fraction of an inch at the memory.

"What are you smiling about?" the younger man nearly shouted in my face, "you've just been kidnapped and you are smiling?" Not wishing for any harm to come from his rage, I quickly smoothed my face over and vowed to show no more emotion.

"Now, now," said the old man gently, "why don't you let me take care of her for an hour or so then you can interrogate her." Even though the words had been spoken kindly and without force or demand, the younger man stepped back from me quickly and proceeded to walk out the door without another word.

My eyes, now adjusted to the light, followed the old man around the plain, barren, white room. He simply walked back and forth, pacing here and there around me as I lay, propped up on some kind doctor's examination table.

"So," I started, again breaking the stillness, "who are you?" He quit pacing and walked to my side, taking my hand into his softly.

"You may simply call me Doc."

"Doc?"

"Yes," he said with a chuckle, "call me corny, but I do love a good old western movie." I smiled back at him, unable to stop myself.

I felt a small prick in the palm of my hand and quickly ripped it out of his grasp, turning it over to see a tiny bead of blood appear. He held a small, silver, sewing needle in his hand.

"Your friend, Liz, she was perfecting a truth serum," he asked, the level of friendliness gone, "was she not?" I clamped my mouth shut in horror as I looked from Doc to needle to my hand and back to Doc.

Heat started to spread from my hand, up my arm, across my torso, down and up both legs, through the other arms and finally into my brain. I felt a little lightheaded, like you do after the dentist puts you on laughing gas. I smiled kindly at the old man, inept to controlling my body.

"What is your name?" he asked in a cool, hard voice. The answer bubbled to my lips willingly, but I swallowed them, nearly choking as I did so.

"Your name!"

"Cameron Anne Morgan."

Doc nodded with a malevolent smirk.

"What was your purpose in leaving the Gallagher Academy?"

"To keep them safe."

"Aw," he said with mock sincerity, "trying to save your friends, how cute. Foolish, yes, but cute." I shot a glare at him. Then something strange happened: the heat began to subside. What? Did this mean the serum was wearing off? Subconsciously I wondered if my teeth looked whiter. I grinned internally. I was in control of the situation now.

"Where is your father's journal?" Doc asked, leaning forward in anticipation.

"I don't know." Doc's face began to turn red with rage.

"What do you mean you don't know?" he nearly shouted, spitting as he did so. I waited a moment, more for effect than anything else, before answering.

"I lost it when I jumped down the falls at Blackthorne."

The other man stormed back in. Taking the other side of me, he looked down at me in pure hatred, his eyes gleaming with it.

"We have another source that tells us differently," he growled. Something in the back of my mind knew it was Zach.

"Maybe you need a better source then," I shot back icily. He raised his hand to hit me, I grimaced but Doc stopped him.

"_She_ wants to take care of her later," he warned in a low voice. The other man gave a slight smile at the prospect.

"Very well," he straightened and began walking back through the door.

"Jonathon," Doc called the other man, "send him in." A silent understanding passed between them and Jonathon nodded. I bit my lip nervously.

After the longest 37 seconds of my life, the door opened again. Zach strode in, looking nothing like the boy I knew. His hair was spiked, and his green eyes were hidden behind sunglasses. The muscles on his chest were defined by his tight shirt and two guns were strapped on either side of his waist. Doc took one look at him, and walked out the door, leaving us alone.

"Hello Gallagher Girl," he smirked strangely, leaning against my chair in an overly self-confident way.

"Nice shades." He smirked but didn't take them off. I peered up at his face. There was something wrong there; I just couldn't put my finger on it. I shook my head at myself.

"Why are you doing this, Zach?" He sighed.

"I didn't have a choice Cammie," he replied silkily, "I wish it wasn't this way. You know I still care about you. I won't let them hurt you, I promise." I nodded, not trusting my voice. He stroked the side of my face with his finger. "I love you Cammie," he whispered and leaned in to kiss me.

The door flew open, hitting the wall with a resounding bang. Jumping in surprise and sliding off the seat, I looked up at the intruder.

"Get your hands off of her."

I gaped at the intruder, my mind spinning in circles confusedly.

"Zach?" I asked then turned to the boy who tried to kiss me, "Zach?" He smiled slickly, sticking out his hand.

"The name's Goode, James Goode," he introduced himself, "Didn't Zachy ever tell you he had a twin brother?"


	3. White Washed Walls

**A/N Thanks to all for the great reviews! You guys are awesome **** Hope you enjoy! Sorry about this chapter, not much action. :/ I'll make up for it soon though!**

I looked from James to Zach. The resemblance was undeniable, true, but there were subtle differences between the two. Zach was just a smidgen taller while James had just a bit more muscular tone to his build. James took off his sunglasses, the same deep, intriguing green eyes as Zach.

Emotions hit me in successive waves. First was shock. _Zach had a brother? A __**twin **__brother? _Second came amazement. _Zach had a brother, a twin brother! _Lastly came confusion.

"What are you doing here Zach?" I asked in the coldest tone I could muster. He winced back slightly. James just smiled.

"Yes, Zachary, what are you doing here?" he asked as he sat down on the seat I had just vacated. Zach shot a glare at him.

"Cam-," he started, "I didn't want this."

"What? Didn't you think about what would happen when you turned me in? Didn't you think?" I shot coldly, anger drenching every word, "truth serum and whatever possible interrogation techniques they might try on me later?"

"Truth serum? She swore she wouldn't-"

"Dude," James interjected coolly, "does mom ever keep her promises? Remember when you were five and she promised you a-"

"Shut it." A tiny pinch of pink crept into Zach's cheeks. James grinned largely and wagged his eyebrows at me.

"I'll tell you later," he promised. I offered a quick smile then turned back to Zach, glaring.

"So what do you want?" I asked, emotionless.

"Cammie," he pleaded. A lump rose in my throat as I looked away. It wasn't like Zach to sound so… needy. He only gave a sigh and left the room quietly.

"He really is looking out for you," James informed me in a soft voice. I looked up to him, his eyes sincere and heartbreakingly like Zach's. I dropped my gaze. James got up and came over, wrapping his arms around me protectively. If I had ever had an older brother, I imagined that this would be what it felt like. I rested my forehead on his shoulder, focusing on breathing deeply so that I wouldn't start crying all over his muscle shirt.

"He wanted one of those easy-bake oven things," he whispered. I stepped back, looking up at him, question marks written all over my face. He shrugged, "Don't ask me, I have no idea why." I smiled and laughed hoarsely.

"Thanks."

"Hey, no prob," he shrugged, letting me out of his arms easily, "Whatever I can do."

"Can you get me out of here?" He laughed at my question.

"Maybe… if…" he began.

"If what?" I asked, eagerly grasping at the hope that I might actually get out of here.

"Give my brother a second chance. He talks about you all the time, you have no idea. I'm pretty sure I know everything about you now, it's kind of weird," he rolled his eyes, "but whatever. He really does care for you and he's trying really hard to make this work." I sighed and sat down on the chair-thing, suddenly emotionally exhausted.

"I just don't know what to believe anymore."

"Well, if I were you, I'd figure it out soon. He leaves for Paris in an hour or so and depending on our mom's mood…" he shrugged, letting the sentence float off into silence, "Think of it this way. There are only a few people in this world you can trust. He's one of them. If you can't trust the ones you love, who's left?" He shrugged again and headed for the door.

I nodded. His words gave me a clear perspective on the situation. I was sick of being angry. It was time to get back to life. Life as a spy who was very much in charge of her circumstances. Taking a deep breath, I counted to five then left the room, determined to make things right.

Everything out in the hall felt like some kind of hospital. Carts lined here and there against the walls and uniform, white doors even placed on both sides of the hall. Not knowing where to go, I guessed and went left. I began to feel a bit confused by the lack of security in the building but then I saw the tiny, nearly invisible cameras placed every 40 feet. I could feel them follow my movements down the hall.

Feeling semi-claustrophobic, I continued on. After 37 minutes and 12 seconds, I concluded that I was hopelessly lost. Every corner revealed a hallway exactly like the one I had previously left. White washed wall after white washed wall. Door. Door. Door. Corner. More white washed walls.

48 minutes and 17 seconds after I had left the room, I began to feel extremely worried that I wouldn't find him in time. With a new drive of desperation, I began running, sprinting down the halls and rushing around corners, perspiration condensing on my back.

Finally, the scenery began to change. Full of hope I continued. Finally I stumbled across a room that looked promising. The walls were frosted glass and I could see someone moving on the other side. The door had been propped open. Silently, I peered in. There was a single punching bag in the center of the room and a single boy dancing lightly around it. Zach. I sighed in relief and slipped into the room. He had his ipod in and I could hear rap music playing faintly from his ear buds as I got closer. He stepped back quickly and I ducked, narrowly dodging his elbow. He stepped back in, pummeling the bag with a force unmatched by Achilles himself. I reached out, gently touching his shoulder to let him know I was there.

Next thing I knew, I was on my back on the ground. Zach was on top of me, fist raised to strike.

"Cammie?" he asked, shock coloring his voice. I looked pointedly at his fist and raised an eyebrow questioningly. He followed my gaze, quickly dropped his arm, and rolled off of me. He reached down with a hand. Grabbing it, he pulled me up.

"What are you doing here?" He asked as he steadied me on my feet.

"I'm sorry." I said, looking up into his green eyes, hoping to see forgiveness. He seemed at lost for words. Rocking onto my tippy-toes, I leaned up and kissed him. He wrapped his arms around my waist and, my feet leaving the ground, spun me around in a circle. I broke off the kiss and wrapped my arms around him, inhaling his musty warmth. I smile contentedly into his neck, happy and feeling wonderfully complete.

"I love you." He whispered into my ear. I grinned and hugged tighter. "Um, ow." I quickly let go, jumping back. He laughed and reached for me again, pulling me close.

"Sorry," I apologized again.

"I'm sorry, too." I sighed into his shoulder. I realized something.

"Don't get me wrong, I don't want you to leave," I began, looking up at him, "but don't you have a flight to catch?" He smoldered down at me, a smirk tugging at the sides of his mouth.

"It can't leave without its pilot, now can it?" I shook my head at him, smiling.

"Is there anything you can't do?" He just smiled.

**A/N Soooo whatcha think? Too much drama? Not enough butt-kicking? Please let me know! **


	4. Goodbye And Hellos

**A/N Sorry it took so long! Kind of a transition chapter… More soon! **

I nuzzled my head into the crook of his shoulder and sighed, not wanting to let the moment go. He seemed to agree silently and held me closer.

"Cam," he whispered, "it's time to go." My shoulders slumped and I could hear Madame Dabney condemning me for my posture, but I didn't care. He gently rubbed his thumbs along my arms, looking down at me intently. I gazed back, memorizing the way his brow furrowed in his concentration and the way the corner of his mouth twitched into a smile when he caught my intense scrutiny.

"Be careful," I reminded him, as if he actually would. He smirked, his green eyes sparkling mischievously.

"I'll be careful if you'll be careful." I smiled and rolled my eyes good-naturedly.

"Come back soon."

"I will." He leaned down and kissed my forehead before quickly stepping out the room.

Alone but feeling fortified and ready for anything, I straightened my shoulders and walked into the hallway. Now that I was calm and had my head on right, I began to notice the subtle changes in the hallways I once thought were identical. It was like I was looking at everything with fresh eyes. Small hairline cracks identified one wall from the other, and some doorknobs had been replaced with newer ones. The tiny cameras were sadly out of date. Upon close inspection, I found that they were the 2000 version that had poor visual and moved so shakily that anyone watching them would have a hard time distinguishing objects in view. This was obviously not one of the primary COC bases. Feeling a little insulted that they hadn't taken me to a high security holding, I walked on, not knowing what I was looking for but still looking.

A map began to form in my head as I wandered. So did a plan.

I assumed that they hadn't taken me out of the country, and remembering back to Doc (shudder) his accent was tinted with Northeastern slang. I smiled to myself. If I knew Liz at all, her radar would pick me up with ease unless there were signal blockers around the building. Unlikely. If they didn't put up the latest hall monitor system, they probably wouldn't invest in high quality signal jammers. Now all I needed was the equipment to contact her.

"Thanks for giving him a second chance." I jumped, jerked out of my reverie of plotting. Spinning on my heel, I jumped, switched feet midair and kicked hard, aiming at the source of the voice. My foot made contact but strong hands wrapped around my ankle before I could retract for a second attack. He held my ankle in one hand and pinched his nose together with the other.

"Sorry James!" I exclaimed, struggling to keep my balance on one foot while trying to reach toward him in order to help.

"'S'okay," he replied in a muffled voice. He gently set my foot back on the ground and designated both hands to stopping the bloody flow.

Concentrating on his nose, he began to shuffle past me. I followed, guilt wracking my conscience.

"James, I"- He didn't let me finish, but just held up a single bloody finger. He led the way through a part of the building I hadn't been in before. The new halls were wide and spacious with skylights overhead and early morning light sifting in.

Our surroundings became continuously more modern as we progressed. When we finally stopped at one door, the walls were pure glass with infrared laser on either side. Hand scans and DNA checks were outside of every solid steel door and a version of cameras I had never seen before followed our every move.

James pulled out a small digital device and pointed toward the scanner. The door clicked open freely.

"Having too much time on your hands can be useful," He mumbled, still looking cross-eyed down at his nose. I smirked and followed him into the room. His room. Two cots were pushed up against the wall and a mass of electronic equipment cluttered any open space.

"Nice face," a voice said with a chuckle. I spun around, fighting the instinct to kick him in the face. I looked down at him. He looked around our age and had nearly-black curly hair, a tan complexion, with dark blue eyes. He stood up, extending a hand in my direction. The girl in me began melting; the spy in me took notice of the faint scar that marked the side of his face.

"The name is Joel"he offered. I shook his hand.

"Cammie." He smiled largely.

"Cammie Morgan?" I nodded. "I've heard so much about you," he said, "obviously from Zach, but you're pretty much the most despised person around here." I let out a short sigh. So much for being a Chameleon, huh?

"Gee, thanks," I muttered sarcastically. James walked back in, his face red from being scrubbed.

"Is it all gone?" he asked, walking closer for inspection.

"All except your shirt," I nodded towards it. He looked down and groaned before deftly ripping it off. The girl inside me nearly died. I was in a room with two young men. One with the angelic/bad boy curls and the other standing shirtless with a six pack. I gave myself a mental slap and snapped back to reality.

"I'm really sorry James," I apologized, "it's all just instinct."

"It's alright Cam," he assured me, "don't sweat it." I managed to give him a small smile before tearing my eyes away again. Thankfully, he put on another shirt. A small beeping noise broke the silence from behind me. Glancing over my shoulder, I saw Joel pull out a small cell phone and flip it open. His eyes scanned the screen for a moment before he shut it again.

"He just took off," he informed us.

"Good." They began to move quickly, gathering equipment and packing others away.

"What're we doing?" I asked, confused by their sudden commotion.

"We?" Joel shot back, glaring at James.

"Hey," James said as he straightened, putting his arms up in surrender, "I made no promises."

"Well obviously I'm coming with you."

"No, I don't think you are," Joel growled as he walked towards me, his blue eyes flashing.

"I think I am." He took a step closer, almost breathing down my neck by now.

"No. Every time someone comes with us," he whispered menacingly, "someone gets hurt, someone doesn't come home." I couldn't help but think of Aunt Abby, how she'd gotten hurt because of me, or Macey, when her arm had been broken because of me, or my dad; who never came home. I took a deep breath.

"That won't happen this time," I whispered back forcefully, "because I know what I'm doing. Both sides need me." Behind Joel's domineering figure, James nodded thoughtfully.

"I think we should take her," James said.

"What?" Joel turned, no longer whispering, "She's a liability! She'll just get hurt!" I met James's eyes. I raised a single eyebrow and he answered in a simple twitch of his lips. I grabbed his arm, swiftly ducking my head under his arm and twisting his wrist inwards. Feeling his weight shift in surprise, I used his weight against him and landed him squarely on his back, groaning in pain. A low oath slipped out as he rolled onto his side. Suddenly, his hand shot out, grabbed my ankle and pulled me down. A second later, Joel was on top of me, his breath ragged and hot on my cheek.

"Never let down your guard," he advised before gently removing himself from me and reaching a hand down to help me up. Surprised by his sudden kindness but remembering his warning, I reached up and yanked him down next to me. We both turned to look at each other and began to laugh. James looked from Joel to me and back again then settled for shaking his head at us and continuing with his gathering of equipment.

"So," I began when we finally settled down, "can I come?" Joel sobered quickly and looked up to exchange glances with James. He sighed.

"It seems that we don't have much a choice," he conceded. Disliking the tone of his voice but glad that they accepted it, I got up. Joel got up, too, and finished helping James. Within five minutes, we were deemed ready and proceeded to walk out the front doors of the COC building. I couldn't help but feel extremely awkward and out of place as we stood in front of the massive building.

"Um," I started.

"Don't ask," James warned, shooting Joel glances over my head.

"You probably don't want to know," Joel added.

**A/N Goode? Bad? Awful? Let me know please!**


	5. Bullets

**A/N Fifth Chapter! Read and REVIEW! Thanks to everyone who has so far! **

I rolled my eyes at the cliché, spy-like mysterioso that James and Joel had going, but I shrugged it off and looked around. The sky was a fresh blue and the sun was still low in the sky. The air was crisp with morning breeze. I took a deep breath, enjoying freedom once more. We appeared to be somewhere in an abandoned part of some downtown. Normally the mystery of location would bother the heck out of me, but instinct told me not to question the boys as they peered up and down the street, watching. Waiting.

87 seconds after we exited the COC base, a black, nondescript SUV with tinted windows turned the far corner and hurtled toward us at high speeds. I tensed and looked to the boys for a reaction. They had none. The car came to a screeching halt directly in front of us and a guy stepped out, decked in a black tux and shades with a short crew cut and passive expression.

James and Joel gave head nods, not speaking. Crew cut quickly tossed the keys to the van and walked past us quickly without a word.

"Wow. Cliché much fellas?" I teased. They turned and stared at me, eyebrows raised. "Oh come on, black SUV with dark windows and a guy in a tux with dark shades and a buzz. Really?" Joel snorted and James smirked.

"We didn't have many options," Joel began as we walked around the car to the passenger side, "it was either this or an ice-cream truck, and we don't really have time to deal out the treats to kids." I nodded, understanding. There was a muffled bang in the distance and Joel was thrown against the passenger's door, clutching his abdomen, face scrunched in agony.

"Get him in the car! NOW!" James ordered from inside the car. I looked back down at Joel, blood beginning to soak into his shirt. I wrenched open the back door and dragged him in as fast as possible.

There was another muffled bang, and a second bullet flew at us, embedding itself in the side of the car. Then a third followed, also penetrating the aluminum siding.

"Go!" I screamed, slamming the door behind me. I flew back into the leather seats as James hit the gas. As soon as I regained my balance, I turned my attention to Joel. His face was pale and blood soaked everything. He was gasping for air, still clutching his stomach with whatever strength he had left. I helped him into the back seat and made him lay down.

"Cammie," he gasped, reaching for me with his free hand.

"Shhh, save your strength. You're going to be fine," I lied. With the amount of blood he had lost, his life hung in the balance.

"We need to get him to a hospital fast." James looked back at us in the rearview mirror, his green eyes cool in concentration. How was he not freaking out? I was freaking out and I barely knew the kid! He looked back to the road.

"I know a guy," he replied calmly, "just try to stop the bleeding." I nodded, trying to calm my frantics. I quickly shrugged on my blood-stained sweater and ripped it into cotton patches.

"Okay, Joel, I'm going to apply some pressure," I warned, "this might hurt a bit." He nodded and moved his hand away from the wound. I quickly pealed his shirt off his stomach far enough to reveal the small hole. I quickly, but gently, pressed the makeshift bandage against it, flinching when he groaned in pain.

"It's Italy, he's been shot," James spoke quickly and quietly into a small cell phone. I cocked an ear to the conversation.

"I don't know," James was saying, "there must have been a sniper on the roof of one of the surrounding buildings… Well, he's lost a lot of blood, but he's still conscience. Can you do it? Good. We'll be there in 30 seconds."

28 seconds later we pulled up to a small, neat suburban home. I reached for the door handle.

"No," James stopped me, "Wait." He flashed his lights once and the garage door rolled open and we proceeded to pull in. The door was quickly yanked open and tall man with muscles that could easily earn him a job as a bouncer in the toughest part of New York grabbed me gruffly by the arm and pulled me out, pinning me against the wall of the garage.

"Who are you?" He growled in my face. Over the massive man's head, I saw James step out of the driver's side.

"She's with me." The man reluctantly let me down from the wall and turned to the car. A small, mousy guy climbed into the back of the bullet-riddle SUV.

"Charlie, bring him in," he ordered, climbing back out after looking over Joel. The big guy grunted and carefully lifted Joel's limp body out of the back seat and followed the boy into the house. James and I followed.

"Stay here," the young boy ordered, gesturing to a couch in the incredibly normal-looking living room. James obeyed, quickly sitting on the down on the sofa and propping his feet up on the coffee table. I paced, fidgety, back and forth across the living room. Who was the boy? Where were we? Would Joel be okay? Questions bombarded my mind; questions to which I had no answer. Frustration settling in, I let out an agitated groan.

"Relax Cam," James reassured me, "he's going to be fine. Barny is the best surgeon in America." He patted the seat next to him, I sat down and he wrapped his arm protectively around my shoulder.

"Barny?"

"Yeah, unfortunate name right? Just don't tease him about it; Charlie will kick your butt." I sighed and relaxed.

"Jamie?" a shrill squeak interrupted the silence. We both looked up to see a small, figuresque blonde stood in the door.

"Hey Marissa!" James leapt up and wrapped the girl in a huge hug.

"Who's this?" she asked quietly, eyeing me suspiciously around James's arms.

"That's Zach's Cammie." Her expression immediately lightened and became more congenial.

"Hi Cammie! I'm Marissa," she introduced herself, still wrapped in James's arms. Her eyes traveled across me, landing on me bloodstained cami.

"Oh, I can get you a clean shirt if you want," she offered.

"Please, if it's not too much trouble." She smiled and skipped out of the room only to enter a second later. She tossed me a small white tee and I quickly slipped it on, wriggling out of the cami underneath it. The change was effortless and the clean shirt was a welcome change for my skin. When I had finished, I looked up to see James and Marissa having a nearly silent conversation.

"Tell her," Marissa hissed, giving him a cold stare.

"Marissa," he replied in a cautionary tone.

"Jameson Rook Goode, tell her now," she ordered, still glaring.

"Tell me what?" I interrupted their glare-fest. James sighed, defeated.

"Well," he began but was cut off by a throat being cleared in the door way. Barney stood there, wearing a bloody apron, hands still covered by bloody gloves. James immediately took a step toward him.

"Barny, how is he? Is he okay?" he asked, fear tinting his voice as he searched Barney's face for answers. I, too, looked for any sign of emotion but found none in his blank expression.

Barny took a deep breath and slowly opened his mouth to speak.

**A/N Sorry if it's a little cliffy…. What do you think? Should he live or die? Please review! More Zammie will come shortly, promise!**


	6. Traitor

**A/N Thanks so much for all the great reviews! Shout out to Kokylinda for her amazing review and insightful advice! Thanks for the support!**

"He's going to make it," he said, confident in his prognosis. James let out the breath he'd been holding and turned to smile at me. I returned it quickly and sank back onto the couch, suddenly exhausted.

"Thanks man," James was saying, shaking his hand. Barny nodded solemnly in response. "Can we see him?" Barny nodded once more. James beckoned with one hand for me to follow then walked through the door after Barny. I quickly pushed myself up and nearly ran after them.

Behind the door was nothing like the room we had left. It was like being in a box. A big, white box. The walls, the ceiling, the floor, it was all white. A single, shining operating table was in the center and Joel lay motionless on top of it, his bare chest wrapped in thick white gauze, looking significantly better than he had before. We stepped up to the table. James took Joel's hand in his own and gazed down at him, worried.

"Dude, I'm not gay." James laughed outright and let go of the hand. Joel opened his eyes slowly.

"How do you feel?" I asked, leaning against the table.

"Like I've been shot." I smiled at his response. Obviously the bullet didn't take his sense of humor. He tried to smile back, but it came out like more of a grimace. He gently fingered his bandaged abdomen and closed his eyes again. The room echoed silence.

"He's going to need rest," Barny's voice cut through, "he lost a lot of blood." James nodded, not looking away from his friend.

"I removed the bullet, luckily it hit no vital organs, but you're going to want to take a look at it," he nodded toward the foot of the table. I was closer, so I picked up the small plastic canister and looked at the small, silver bullet. It held no consequential meaning for me so I passed it on to James's waiting hand.

With a single glance, the blood drained from his face and fear colored his eyes black. He looked over to Barny.

"A silver bullet. This bullet is…" James began but trailed off when Barny nodded. James swallowed loudly then suddenly slammed his hand down against the table, letting a low string of profanities hiss between his pursed lips.

"James, what is it?" I asked, utterly confused and worried. He just shook his head.

"I'm sorry James," Barny said quietly, "but given the circumstances, you can't stay here much longer. He knows where I live, too." James nodded, understanding but obviously still fuming with rage.

"You'll have to leave soon as well then," James warned, struggling to keep his voice even. Barny nodded.

"I'll have Charlie bring in a wheelchair for Joel," he replied, "then we will leave."

"Thank you Barny. For everything." Barny just nodded then left the room.

"James! What is going on?" He didn't answer but instead just glared at the small silver bullet. I looked at it closer, but saw nothing unusual.

"Traitor," he growled murderously under his breath as Charlie pushed a wheelchair through the door. The large man simply nodded before leaving. Seconds later a car started and the sound of the engine faded into the background.

Finally, James snapped out of his fury-filled reverie and began to lift Joel's unconscious body into the wheelchair. Still confused, I followed him out of the room, through the abandoned house, and back into the SUV. James lifted Joel, wheelchair and all, into the car which was conveniently now missing a seat. I silently thanked Charlie and all his musculature. James proceeded to walk angrily to the driver's side and started the engine. I quickly hopped into the passenger side and buckled in, somewhat fearful of the effect anger would have on James's driving.

We shot out of the garage like a bullet from a gun. A silver bullet. Why was it so important? I opened my mouth to ask, but James's angry eyes made me swallow the question.

We drove in silence for hours. Never stopping. Never speaking. This endless quiet was irritating beyond belief and left my mind too much time to wander over things I didn't want to think about. Things that were there, but unknown. Why had Joel been shot? Who had shot him? What did Marissa know that she wanted me to know? What was so special about a small silver bullet? Who was the traitor? Questions pounded my brain, but I had no answer to any of them. Finally, it seemed, my brain fried and I found myself drifting off into unconsciousness.

I slept for hours, allowing my mind to shut down and relax. I was in such a deep slumber that I didn't feel James carefully pick me up and carry me out of the car. I didn't hear the thunder of jets or feel the rumble of takeoff.

I woke up to my ears popping. I opened my eyes and peered around at my dimly lit surroundings. I was in a soft, well-cushioned seat, and I could hear the deep breathing of a heavy sleeper coming from next to me.

Slowly, my eyes adjusted to the darkness, and I could faintly make out Joel's sleeping profile in his wheel chair. I relaxed in my seat as everything dropped. My stomach had a flipping sensation and I realized where I was. The plane began a quick decent and I gripped my chair tightly, almost waiting for the crash. But it never came. Instead the plane picked up just as quickly as it dived and landed softly. After coming to a stop, the cockpit door opened in front of us, slivers of light streaming around the pilot's figure. He stumbled towards us and crashed into the empty seat in front of me.

"Are you awake?" James whispered.

"Yes," came Joel's hoarse voice. I added my startled "yes". James barely heard me, instead he spoke to Joel.

"It was him. He shot you. Barny found the silver bullet," James said in a defeated voice.

"A silver bullet? That's not possible," Joel countered.

"He lied. He deceived us all."

"Who are you talking about?" I asked in a small voice. They both ignored me. James pulled the canister containing the bullet out of his pocket and held it out towards Joel, turning on an overhead light as he did so. Joel looked at the small piece of metal, his expression turning from indignant to hurt.

"It's his. How could he?" Joel whispered quietly, not taking his eyes off the bullet. He swallowed and looked away, pushing the canister back towards James. James took it back, slowly turning it over in his hands.

"Where are we now?" Joel asked, his voice still tainted with bitterness.

"Our safe house," James answered, sighing, "it's the only one he doesn't know about."

"Who?" I asked loudly, fed up with the entire vague conversation. They both turned to look at each other, but neither met my gaze.

"In our line of work, we call him Wolf," James whispered softly.

"Wolf?"

"Wolf as in Werewolf," Joel interceded, "he's notorious for using silver bullets to kill his targets. He's a highly trained assassin." They both spoke quietly and slowly. There was more, I knew, but I didn't press. Their faces were masks of betrayal and hurt, but they weren't giving out the whole story. They wouldn't give me the information I needed, but I would get it nonetheless. I was determined to. There was something about the way they spoke about him- the man called Wolf- that sparked something in the back of my mind. The way they talked about him, it was so… personal. My brow furrowed as I looked between the two men then upon the single bullet.

**A/N Whatcha think? Your opinions mean the world to me! Happy New Years! **

**BTW: Sorry, I lied about the Zammie… Sorry!**


	7. An Answer

**A/N Whew ! Seventh Chapter! Thanks for all the faithful followers & please review!**

We disembarked the plane quickly, James pushing Joel in the wheelchair. Everything was murky and the air held the promise of rain to come. Subconsciously, I could feel the hairs on my neck curling in the humidity.

James quickly ushered us to a small tan car. Joel, wincing, lifted himself out of his chair and into the back seat. James got into the passenger side and I, confused, got into the driver's side. As I opened the door, I understood. We were somewhere in Europe, and the steering wheel was on the opposite side of the car.

As soon as the door clicked shut, James sped off, swerving and weaving through the traffic we came upon after leaving the tarmac. Joel was sprawled out on the back seat, grimacing every time James didn't dodge a pothole or a warp in the road in time. James was solely focused on the road, the dark circles under his eyes coming into prominence on his tired face. I sighed and rested my head in my hands, watching houses blur by.

2 hours, 31 minutes, and 16 seconds later we pulled into a small, quiet, suburban house. It was quaint to say the least, although it showed signs of disuse and neglect in its chipping paint and weeds growing profusely in the window boxes. James parked the car in the drive in front of the house and got out. I followed suit, looking around. We were surrounded by a plethora of houses looking much like ours. White siding and blandly shuttered houses with little, old cars waiting patiently in the drives.

James wasted no time in unpacking Joel's wheelchair from the trunk and helping inside the front door.

Thunder rolled overhead, the sky a now threatening shade of dark gray. I glanced around once more and followed the boys into the house.

The inside was clean and simple, dust coating everything with a thin layer of its gray remnants. Walking into the small living room, I found James crashed on the couch, already half asleep. Joel's wheelchair was left unoccupied in the corner of the room. Walking past it, I followed a tiny hallway to the bathroom, entering just as Joel lifted his shirt. His bandages were bloody.

"Are you alright?" I asked softly, my eyes never leaving his blood stained torso. He nodded and proceeded to unwrap the gauze.

"Go get the first aid kit from the kitchen." Without a second's hesitation, I tiptoed back through the hall, past James's now snoring figure, and into the tiny kitchen. I quickly searched through every cupboard, finding only a broken coffee mug. My eyes scanned over the small space before it came to rest on a seemingly ancient bread box. Crossing my fingers, I pried it open. Success! I tugged the little kit out of the box. I was about to turn and race back to Joel, but a small silver gleam caught the corner of my eye. Curiosity overcoming logic, my finger traced around its circular figure. A button. Curiosity once again gaining the better of me, I pressed it. A gust of dry dusty air whipped my hair back as the wall groaned open to reveal a small, dark, and cobwebby hall. I took a step towards it,

"Did you find it?" Joel's voice reverberated through the house, brining me back to reality. I sighed and stepped away from the passageway. I returned to Joel, opening the small kit as I went.

"Okay, what do you need?" I asked rounding the corner. Joel turned, pressing a towel against his wound. Silently, he took the bag set it on the sink and handed me a new, clean roll of gauze. As he held the end down, I carefully rewrapped him and pinned it into place. Looking up, I met his dark blue eyes, standing out brilliantly against his pale and tired expression.

"Thanks," he murmured, "and I'm sorry about what I said before. You aren't a liability." I gave him a small smile.

"You should get some rest, it looks like you're going to pass out," I teased, leading him back down the hall into the living room. He grunted but reclined in a chair and closed his eyes. I turned and found the couch now unoccupied with James nowhere in sight. The passageway. He'd probably heard me open it. Stepping lightly so as to not arouse Joel, I crept back into the kitchen and peered into the tiny hall. The cobwebs had, indeed, been recently disturbed. With an exasperated sigh, I stepped into to it, feeling my way blindly down the dark corridor. With each step into the tunnel I took, the hall became darker and darker until at last it was completely dark. After a few minutes of dark corners and the feel of coarse wood beneath my finger tips, I stumbled upon a door, its surface cool and smooth to the touch. I reached down to the handle and turned it slowly.

The door opened silently and I stepped into the pitch black room, groping along the walls for a light switch. Why hadn't I thought to bring a flashlight or something? I growled at myself internally and continued to search. My pinky brushed something. My fingers crawled over it, discovering what it was. A hand. I immediately retracted my searching fingers and stepped backwards, my breath caught in my throat.

"Looking for something?" a voice asked. The lights flickered to life and illuminated Zach's figure, his hand resting on the wall not an inch away from the light switch.

"You scared the living daylights out of me!" I said, beginning to breathe again. He smirked, his green eyes twinkling with humor.

"I've missed you too," he whispered back, quickly closing the distance between us. A smile worked the edges of my mouth as I looked up at him. He leaned down, letting his lips brush mine. He softly wrapped his arms around me, holding me close and resting his chin on the top of my head protectively. I sighed and closed my eyes, memorizing the moment.

"Wait," I said as something dawned on me, "why are you here?" He didn't let me pull away to look up at him.

"Yeah, Zach," came a voice from behind me, "why are you here? To finish the job?" This time I managed to wriggle around enough to see Joel, leaning heavily against the door frame with murderous eyes shooting daggers at Zach.

"What are you talking about Joel?" I asked, confusion swirling around me. Joel put one hand on his freshly bandaged torso meaningfully. No. No way.

"Ask Zach," Joel spit out, still glaring over my head at Zach, "or should I say… Wolf."

**A/N Yeahhh… you probably knew it was coming… ;) Review anyway!**


	8. Wolf

**A/N Sorry it took so long, it's my finals week :/But here you go! Please let me know what you think! **

I stepped back, out of Zach's protective arms. He made no motion to stop me.

"Joel, what are you talking about?" I asked over my shoulder, my eyes never leaving Zach's face. He stared straight at Joel, his face passive and unmoving.

"Wolf. The trained assassin that uses silver bullets on his targets," Joel paused to pull a tiny canister out of his back pocket; the silver bullet rattled inside. "Cammie, Zach is the trained assassin. On assignments, his codename was wolf... and he killed his targets with silver bullets." A lead weight dropped in my stomach. '_and he killed his targets with silver bullets'. _Zach had killed someone. But more than that, he had killed multiple target_s. _I looked at Zach. It was all there, plain as day, but I had been so blind; blind with love and hate and confusion, that I hadn't seen Zach in his true state. The state of assassin. I swallowed the bile in my throat and took another step back, toward Joel.

"No…," Zach whispered, shaking his head, his face paled, "I haven't used that codename in two years, Joel. Two years! I haven't taken any assignments in two years."

"What I want to know," Joel charged on, talking over Zach, "is why you had to pick me. Why?"

"No, Joel, it wasn't me," he pleaded.

"You are Wolf, Zach. You always have been and always will be." Joel said with heartbreaking honesty and a finality that cut through my heart.

Zach was silent, pain distorting the finest features of his face. I took one more step back, standing next to Joel.

"Go, Cammie," Joel whispered, not taking his eyes off of Zach, "get James." Numbly, I obeyed, stumbling out of the room; Zach's eyes following mine until I turned. I ran through the dark labyrinth until I fell out onto the cool kitchen floor. I lay there, gasping for air but finding no relief. My stomach heaved air and I choked on the dust as it swirled around me.

"Cammie?" a strong hand reached out and helped me to my feet, "are you alright?"

"Zach…. Down the hall…. Joel…" I coughed out, "… Wolf… he is wolf…." James's eyes went from concern to fury. He led me to the counter before quickly sprinting down the hall. There was silence, an eerily still silence, the pitter-patter of rain the only noise to be heard. Voices rose angrily, a bang, and more silence. Violent shivers wracked my entire body with the fear of not knowing.

The front door slammed, I quickly straightened myself and sprinted into the living room. A small portion of the wall had moved to reveal a dark passageway. Something ran by the window in the corner of my eye. Zach ran through the pouring rain, cradling his right hand against his chest, toward a dark car. I chased after him, ignoring the cold rain as it soaked me to the skin within seconds.

Zach struggled with the car door. Thunder rolled menacingly and rained pushed stringy stands of hair into my eyes.

"Zach!" I screamed as loud as I could as he started to get into the car. He stopped, and looked up at me with pain filled eyes.

"Cammie," he whispered, the sound of his voice barely reaching my ears over the rain. He stepped back out of the car and ran toward me. My breath caught in my throat. His hand was covered in blood and his shirt was drenched red. He didn't acknowledge my look, but continued to run towards me. He reached for me with his uninjured hand. Frozen in place, I didn't pull away.

"Cammie," he pleaded, looking into my eyes with such intensity that my soul felt exposed, "you have to believe me. I haven't taken any assignment from the Cavan in over two years. I've refused to do anything since I met this girl. She's the best thing that ever happened to me and I would never do anything to hurt her."

"Zach…"

"She's smart," he continued, not letting me interrupt, as he stroked the side of my face with his hand, "she's funny… she's amazing. She's the only one I can trust."

"Lucky girl," I managed to say. He smirked then grimaced and held his hand closer to his stomach.

"Listen to me Cammie," he said in a voice strangely like Mr. Solomon's, "I need you to do something for me. I'm being framed, and I need you to find whoever it is. Please, Gallagher Girl, do this for me. No matter what happens, I will be okay. I promise."

The front door slammed open. Zach retracted his hand from my face and turned back to his car. Within seconds, bullets rippled through the air. Everything seemed to be in slow motion. Zach's feet moved slow, too slow, across the grass towards the waiting vehicle. James and Joel both stood squared, with guns raised and their fingers pumping the triggers.

"NO!" I screamed, running towards them in futility. Zach's body turned and twisted in the air, excruciating pain coloring his last word.

"Cammie!" he fell and lay motionless. I stopped in my tracks. My heart breaking, but still beating loudly. Louder. _Louder. _ Until finally it was the only sound I could hear. I ran toward Zach's limp figure, stumbled and pulled myself to his side. I screamed his name, but I knew he couldn't hear me. My heart beat loudly, but his never would again.

"Zach!" I screamed, tears running down my face and mingling with the cold, heartless rain, "Zach! You promised!" Two hands grabbed my arms, pulling me backwards, away from Zach. Why were they pulling me away? I struggled, pulling, twisting and kicking to get out of the grip and get back to Zach.

"Zach!" I screamed once more, my voice finally failing into a hoarse cry. A rough cloth was shoved over my mouth. I breathed deeply, ready to forget everything and hoping that maybe when I woke up things would be different. The familiar drowsiness spread throughout my body, numbing everything except the sharp pain in my chest. My eyelids fell shut and darkness prevailed.

**A/N Don't hate me yet! This is all going somewhere, I promise….. Review!**


	9. Who?

**A/N Soooooo…. Just finished the Hunger Games… HOLY CRAP! Amazing books, highly recommended! Mmmkay, sorry this one's a bit short.**

It felt like being in one of those cheesy "dream scenes" you see in old movies. The edges of my vision were still blurry and all I could help but thinking was _that was not just chloroform. _I had no idea where I was and every image that passed before my eyes seemed like a lifetime ago, or maybe even something that had never happened. I was uncertain. Even my surroundings seemed unreal; the walls were tilted and the ceiling was warped. The couch I was laying on looked strangely deformed. A few minutes of confused consciousness was often followed by immeasurable periods of unconsciousness.

"She keeps going in and out," a voice whispered from somewhere above me, "how much did you put on the gag?" There was a hesitant silence.

"15 milliliters."

"What! That's three times the recommended amount!"

"How did I know she was going to breathe it in so fast!" The other voice scowled in disapproval.

"I'll be surprised if she even knows her name." Silly. Of course I remember my name. It's Ca-. No. That's not right. It starts with a "c", I know that. Or at least, I think it does. What is it! My brain spins with the exertion and I black out.

When I come to again, my head is pounded and the insides of my nostrils burn, strangely enough. I move to rub my nose but am quickly stopped by the sensation of foreign metal in my arm that turns my stomach unpleasantly. I open my eyes and glance down to see, sure enough, an IV-drip needle embedded on the inside of my arm. The clarity of the image is what shocks me. The walls are now straight and the ceiling is back in place. I gasp.

There he was. The boy that haunted my unconscious hours.

I didn't remember his name or how I knew him or even why he was here. He watched me with dark green eyes from under a black fringe of eyelashes with an intensity that pierced the skin of my soul and searched my heart. Dark brown hair fell carelessly across his forehead. His arms were crossed against his chest as he leaned against the far wall.

"Who _are _you?" I asked, my voice rasping out drily. He smiled, but his eyes only grew darker.

"A figment of your imagination," he whispered, only half for my benefit. Figment of my imagination? What kind of answer is that? I raised a single eyebrow. He smirked, hesitated, and then walked to my side. Dark circles emphasized the hollowness of his face and the general wear of things nobody should have to bear. He reached up and stroked the side of my face. I flinched away from the virtual stranger's touch. His eyes dropped and he retracted his hand.

"Who are you? Who am I? Where am I?" Questions began to pour, unchecked, out of my mouth. He gave one more sad smile, hit a button on the machine next to me and shook his head. Within seconds, my eyelids dropped. There was a soft touch of lips on my forehead and words that I couldn't quite distinguish. A door closed faintly in the background and the dreams started up again.

_Ruby red slippers._

"_Guggenheim Academy?"_

_A jacket._

_The smell of soap and shampoo._

"_Gallagher Girl."_

_His face._

_A hidden passageway in a quaint little house. A kiss._

"_Wait- what are you doing here?"My voice asked._

"_Yeah Zach…" came a different voice._

Zach! That was the boy's name! Zach! Wait. Zach?

"_Please, Gallagher girl, do this for me. No matter what happens, I will be okay. I promise."_

_Bullets in the air._

_His bullet-ridden body._

_A broken promise._

Zach. Zachary Goode.

**A/N Goode? Bad? Dunno how I feel 'bout this one… but my opinions matter not. What do **_**you **_**think?**


	10. Names

**A/N Sorry. I'll explain myself next chapter.**

A name and a face. It wasn't much but it was more than I had had before. My mind still felt lost in the labyrinth I call my brain, but I felt as if I had at least found a pathway. Going from consciousness to unconsciousness was easier now that I had something to hold on to.

"Good morning sunshine," a sarcastic voice shook me from my thoughts. I opened my eyes slowly; letting the letting them adjust to the light. Dark, curly hair and blue eyes. He's a hottie to say the least, but the sarcasm makes me roll my eyes.

"Hola," I reply in an equally sarcastic voice. I quickly did a mental body check before sitting up and swinging my legs over the side of the couch.

"Take it easy!" he protested, getting out of his chair and pushing me back down. Well, a girl can only lie on a couch for so many days before she's absolutely fed up with anything but standing, so I slipped out of his gentle grasp and stood, stretching. Black spots danced in front of my eyes, but I didn't give any signs of weakness.

"So who are you?" I asked as I began to pace along the wall, simply enjoying the ability the move.

"You don't remember," he stated in a very dismayed voice.

"Obviously not if I asked your name, buddy," I replied in a chirpy voice, feeling strangely happy. He swore under his breath and sat back down, massaging his forehead with one of his hands.

"This is not good." Well _duh. _

"Really? Well there's only one way to fix it," I began, standing in front of him, "isn't there?" He looked up, a questioning look on his face.

"What do you propose?" he asked in a monotone-ish voice.

"Answer my questions," I shrug as if it's obvious.

"My name is Joel."

"You got a last name, Joel?" I asked, happy that he was playing along.

"Yes."

"Ooh, you're a feisty one aren't you?" He smirked a little in response and leaned back in his chair.

"Next question," he prompts as he eyes me deviously.

"What is my name?"

"Cameron Morgan. Cammie for short." Ha! So it does start with a 'c'! Unfortunately, the name registers little else.

"Why can't I remember anything?"

He smirk slides off his face and his eyes drop to his lap. The door opens.

"Cause he drugged you. Overdosed you, really." It was him; the same green eyes and hair.

"Zach."

He and Joel exchanged glances. Joel looked down at his lap again and Zach spoke.

"My name is James," he said slowly, monitoring my reaction, "Zach was my twin brother."

"Was-"I had barely choked out when a reel of images assaulted my eyes. Dark passageways and gunshots, rain and blood, an unresponding body, "he promised… What are you?" I looked between the two boys and couldn't help but feel as if I had lost the path again. James and Joel looked at each other again. James nodded and Joel stood.

His fist flew out of nowhere. My hand flashed, deflecting the shot, before a single thought had crossed my mind. His foot quickly followed, but I caught with both hands before it had the chance to do damage. Pushing his foot up, he lost balance and I jumped, landing a roundhouse in his stomach. He grunted and fell back into his chair. I looked down at my hands in amazement. Where the heck had that come from?

I looked up into the barrel of a gun. James's finger wasn't near the trigger; he didn't mean to shoot me. My hands moved again, quickly snapping the gun up and pushing his wrist down. A second later, the gun was in my hands and pointing at him.

"Woah."

James's hands flew back, doing the exact same maneuver and regaining the gun.

"We," he began as he put his gun back, "are spies."

**A/N Soooooo…. Yeah….**


	11. Huh

**A/N To you: I feel that I owe an explanation for lack of writing-ness. However, if you've ever faced the impeding deadline of multiple art projects, countless and semi-pointless papers, etc., I can now sympathize with you. However, I cannot tell a lie. Okay I can, but I'm not going to. My friend recently turned me onto a new serious by James Patterson; Maximum Ride. The seventh book just came out on Monday and she suggested that I should read them. Who would have guessed that they'd be so addicting? *Sigh* Alas, I'm back and I want to try a new style. Therefore, I NEED YOU because I am unable to objectively judge my own literature (sad face). Anyhoo, enjoy and let me know whatcha think!**

I scoffed. Spies? Yeah, okay, and I was the daughter of two famous spies and my dad had left a mysteriously trail leading to his disappearance, and now I was searching the surface of the world to find him. As far as rhetorical comebacks come, I was pretty pleased with myself and I recited my thoughts out loud.

James's face had been smug with his little joke about being spies and Joel had been looking all macho over James's shoulder, but their faces quickly morphed into a flash of confusion before smoothing over.

"How did you know?" James asked.

"Know what?"

"About your parents." Holy-. It was true? I shook my head at myself. Of course it wasn't true! They were simply pulling my leg… right?

"Ha. Ha. Funny guys." Joel rolled his eyes and leaned against the wall with his arms crossed against his chest.

"This isn't a joke, Cammie," James said levelly. Joel closed his eyes as if in physical pain and rubbed his temple.

"Riiight…" Like you would believe it either.

"Your name is Cameron Anne Morgan. Your mother is the headmistress at the Gallagher Academy and your father went MIA while he was tracking down a secret organization called the Circle of Cavan. Your best friends are Rebecca, Bex, Baxter, Elizabeth, Liz, Sutton, and Macey McHenry. They also attend Gallagher. The Circle of Cavan is now after you because they think you have access to two diaries that contain enough information to take their entire operation down forever. You want to finish the job. You're stubborn like that. You like Ben & Jerry's Mud Pie ice cream and have no reservations about taking seconds of crème brulee. Your favorite color is green and you live for everyone but yourself."

James's small speech startled me and he seemed to have startled himself in the process. He now dropped his gaze to his shoes and shoved his hands into his pocket. There was a moment of awkward silence before he simply walked out of the room. Joel let out a long, deep, burdened breath and opened his eyes. I raised a single eyebrow at the door.

"I'll explain later," he promised and pushed himself off the wall, "but now we have to go." I didn't question him or his judgment; I just followed him out the door. Intelligent, right? I had almost no conceivable notion as to who this person was let alone who I was, a cute guy had done everything except declare himself to me, and now this boy who had overdosed me into the mess was leading me down a very clean hallway towards who knows what. Yep, smarty-pants is my middle name.

Well, if curiosity killed the cat, I was long dead.

"Where are we going?"

No answer.

"What are we doing?"

No answer.

"How do I know you?"

No answer.

Joel stopped at a door, glanced back at me with a guarded expression, and pushed it open. I stepped in and my jaw went slack. My eyes nearly burned out of my sockets and my heart stuttered a couple times before getting back into rhythm.

"Do I swear?" I managed to croak raspily.

No answer. Gee, what a surprise.

"Well, s**t."

**A/N Yuppppppp….. Better? Worse? Completely awful? Beyond repair? Eh.**


	12. I give up with clever chapter names

**A/N Hola. So, it's been a while. Sorry! New writing classes are getting to me. :/ Anyhoo, read and tell me if you hate it. **

Joel grimaced and shut the door again. I shook my head, trying to scatter the images of what I had just seen. The sounds of terror rang in my ears.

"So you see our dilemma," he finally spoke. Huh. I'd almost forgotten he could talk. My bad.

"_Our_ dilemma?"

Joel raised an eyebrow.

"Um, yeah, you kind of brought all of this on us." Memories flooded back in.

"_Your name is Cameron Anne Morgan…_

"Chameleon? Do you read me?" an English accented voice asked in my head.

…_Your mother is the headmistress at the Gallagher Academy…_

A gorgeous woman stood stately behind a podium, welcoming the student back home… home…

…_and your father went MIA while he was tracking down a secret organization called the Circle of Cavan…_

Late night tears when he didn't come home, curled in a ball under the covers of my bed…

…_Your best friends are Rebecca, Bex, Baxter…_

Carmel colored skin… and English accent…

…_Elizabeth, Liz, Sutton..._

"Woopsie-Daisy!"

…_and Macey McHenry…_

Rebellious piercings, dark to-die-for hair, a Senator's daughter…

_They also attend Gallagher. The Circle of Cavan is now after you because they think you have access to two diaries that contain enough information to take their entire operation down forever._

The diary. His diary. My dad's diary.

_You want to finish the job. You're stubborn like that._

I had ran away from everything and everyone I had loved…

_You like Ben & Jerry's Mud Pie ice cream and have no reservations about taking seconds of crème brulee. Your favorite color is green and you live for everyone but yourself."_

And, yet, I had caused this. This, this uncontrollable, indescribable… It was all my fault. An entire army was massing outside the warehouse walls. All looking for me.

I jerked myself back to reality and met Joel's dark blue eyes looking concerned. My breaths were coming out in short, dizzying pants. It was all my fault. Me, myself, and I. My right knee started shaking and I sank to the ground, one hand leveling me against the wall.

"They," I gasped, "they're looking for me, aren't they." It was a statement, he nodded grimly in confirmation. It was all too much then. The not-knowing, the knowing, James and Zach, all of it. The walls seemed to crash down all around me and suddenly there wasn't enough air to breathe. I pushed off the floor and stumbled headfirst down the hallway.

"Yes, but you can stop them." My mind swirled. I could stop them? No I couldn't, I barely knew my own name! This was insane. I ran away from his voice.

"Cammie!" Joel's voice called but in my mind it morphed into Zach's. _Cammie! _His last word before he fell to the ground, riddled with bullet holes.

I ran. There was nothing I could do. I couldn't save anyone or anything. They wanted me. Well, they can have me. I sprinted down hall after hall, desperately searching for a way out, wishing it was marked with a big, red "Exit" sign. No luck, but I wasn't surprised. Luck doesn't come with me.

Exasperated, I began opening doors, slamming them when all I found was white walls.

"AH!" I screamed, so distraught with rage I barely noticed the window in the room before I slammed it. I ran inside and started working the latch. My lips spread in a half-crazed smile as I worked the window open. Cool breeze washed over my face, bringing sanity with it. What was I doing? Why was I leaning out the window? I glanced down at the huge army. Hundreds of troops aimed at the building, looking for me. Me, the cause of all the trouble.

Hands grabbed my waist and pulled me back from the searching snipers.

"What do you think you're doing?" I was a little breathless from shock and still a little upset, so I didn't answer. He'd given me the silent treatment, fair is fair.

"Do you want to get killed?"

I gave no answer.

"What is wrong with you? Are you suicidal?"

Silence.

"Ugh, so now she shuts up!" I couldn't help it; I cracked a smile and peered over. Joel was gasping slightly and stood, hands on his hips and staring exasperated at me. What a diva! A semi-hysterical giggle escaped my lips. He snorted and looked away.

"C'mon," he sighed.

"Where are we going?"

"Home."

Home?

**A/N Review. Oh and can someone tell me what a "one-shot" is? It's probably a dumb question, but HEY, I'm new to all this. Kinda. OH! And another question; What do you think of Joel so far? His character should develop more in the next couple chapters, but what're your initial thoughts? Thanks!**


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N Long time? Yes. Too long? Most definitely. But I've dissembled the Russian mafia and the Spanish embassy is now safe from shoe bombs, so I can get back to writing now. ;)**

I looked up him questioningly.

Home? The world started shaking. Literally. The floor was vibrating.

"What's that?" I asked.

"Our way out," he half-smiled, a sparkle lighting his eyes. I raised a single eyebrow and followed him out of the room. As we got closer to our "exit," the vibrations became more intense.

We turned a corner. A gigantic jackhammer thing slammed its head against the wall, drilling itself through the thick cement.

"How did you get this thing," I yelled over the noise and gestured to the huge machine, "into the building?"

"This is a warehouse for Cavan materials," he explained, "It's the main reason that the army hasn't come in yet. They think its rigged to blow."

The army. What a lovely thought. Something felt strange about it though, like something wasn't right. I shook my head and blamed it on the amnesia. Movement caught my eye.

James walked in, catching my gaze for a second before looking away. Guess its gonna be awkward from now on, wonderful. He fiddled with the controls on the machine and it amped up the intensity.

"Let's go," he mouthed. A maze of halls, countless flights of stairs, and a curiously luminous white room later we arrived on the roof. The stars peered down at us and cool night air refreshed my lungs.

"What are we doing here? I thought we were leaving."

James and Joel exchanges glances.

"Never do what the enemy thinks you will do."

My brow wrinkled with Joel's cryptic statement.

James simply walked over to a large black crate and unlatched it. Curiousity kicking in, I followed and peered over the edge.

"Are these what I think they are?"

"We – the Cavan, I mean, had an eccentric scientist that was obsessed with Greek mythology. Needless to say, they won't melt if you're too close to the sun," James explained. I turned to look at Joel.

"Am I afraid of heights?"

He smirked.

**A/N Okay, who got it? Anyone? What's in the crate? Kudos to you Greekgeeks like me!**


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N Sooooooo sorry. I know y'all prolly hate me & I don't really have any excuses. I didn't really like where I was going with the plotline, but I think I'm on the right path now…, I hope…. Anyway, read and enjoy!**

"Wings?" I stated in a questioning tone. They nodded, serious. "You're kidding me right?" They shook their head in response. I raised an eyebrow and watched their faces as they took huge sets of wings out of the crates. Neither face betrayed them.

They were actually serious. We were actually going to fly. With wings.

James thrusted a set at me. Gingerly, I reached out for the huge mass of black feathers. My fingers stroked the sleekness with awe.

"While we're young, Morgan."

I tore my eyes from the wings to see a set of death's angels. The blackness of the night sky cast dark shadows against James's face, illuminating his eyes as they bore into mine. With a loud swallow, I tore my eyes away from the intensity of his gaze and looked down at the complex harness.

"Crash course for the amnesiatic?" Joel reached forward to assist me while James stepped further into the shadows.

"What's up with him?" I whispered as Joel began to pull the straps into place.

"He's worried. He doesn't know how the Cavan found us so soon. We should have had a few days to plan. Instead we've had hours. He… He thinks its Zach that's undermining us."

Fear crawled down my spine. I saw Zach's face, but there was no gut-wrenching or heart-pounding at the sound of his name. It felt like I had no connection with him, the boy I supposedly loved and who supposedly loved me, too.

"Everything is going to be alright," Joel whispered, brining me back to reality, "I promise."

"Thank you." He tightened the last strap.

"It's time," James's voice growled from the corner. He stepped out of the darkness, met my eyes with the same dark intensity, and jumped off the edge of the building.

"No!" I gasped, leaping towards the edge, afraid to see his mangled body lying crumpled on the ground. Instead, all I saw was a black figure gliding through the night sky.

"He likes to go for the wow-factor," Joel scoffed, "You're next." I felt my eyes widen.

"Um, how?" He smirked at my terror filled eyes.

"Jump and open your arms to extend the wings. If you open it soon enough, you'll get enough air to lift you up," he said nonchalantly, "it's not that hard." I nodded, not trusting myself to speak.

Stepping back from the ledge, I took a deep breath. One step. Two steps. And I fell.

The cold air whipped my hair around my face and my eyes watered. Forgetting all of Joel's instructions, I watched as the ground got closer and closer. I could almost see the whites of the army's eyes.

The air left my lungs in a gust as I was pulled back up into the air.

"Open your wings!" Startled, I open my arms and felt the support of the air instantly holding me up.

"Are you okay?" Joel's voice cut across the rushing of the wind. I looked over my shoulder to see him holding the back of my harness. I nodded and felt the pressure against my stomach lessen as he let go. I had almost died, again, but Joel had saved me, again.

"Follow James." Finding his figure against the sky, I nodded once more.

Hours later, James and Joel landed behind a rundown old motel. I crashed clumsily. Joel helped me up as James cleared the building for safety.

"It's okay to come in," James called from inside the building.

"Let's go," Joel started toward the door.

"Thank you."

"For?" he called over his shoulder.

"Saving my life… again." He shrugged it off.

"All in a day's work." I followed him inside.

Cobwebs hung from the ceiling and across door frames, dust was piled an inch high on an 80's themed reception area, but something felt off. Crates were stacked too precisely in the corners. The cobwebs were too perfect and the dust looked to grainy to have actually gathered slowly over time.

"Someone's been here recently," I murmured.

"Yes, and they took all our supplies," James retorted, slamming an empty crate lid down and running a hand through his hair, "We're going to have to go get some." Joel nodded.

"Where are we going?" I asked. They exchanged glances.

"We," James gestured to himself and to Joel, "are going to get supplies. You are staying here."

"Why? I've come this far with you, why can't I come with you this time?"

"We'd tell you why," Joel teased, "but then we'd have to kill you."

"Just stay here and be careful," James added as they walked back out the door.

"How are you getting to wherever you're going?" I asked as they closed the door behind them.

"Same answer," Joel returned. I growled.

"Why do guys always have to be so cryptic? They won't let you come with them. They won't let you know why you can't come with them. They won't tell you where they're going or how their getting there. They're always shooting somebody!"

"Or we're getting shot at."

I spun on my heel to face the voice. Green eyes, brown hair, and a smirk. He leaned against the doorpost.

"Zach?"

**A/N Happy Memorial Weekend! God bless our troops!**


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N And now ladies and gentlemen, the moment you've all been waiting for…. Zachary Goode is back in play.**

"I thought you were dead."

Tired, black circles underlined his eyes. His hand was wrapped in thick gauze and his arm was held in a sling.

"I was wearing a vest. I won't be killed that easily," he held my gaze, "especially if I'm being shot at for no reason."

"You're Wolf. You killed people," I shook my head, backing away from him; "You tried to kill Joel."

"No, Cammie, I didn't."

"The silver bullet-"

"It was used by someone else to frame me," he said slowly, pushing himself off the door frame and taking a step towards me.

"Why would someone do that?"

"I've made a lot of enemies taking down the Circle, I don't know who or how yet, but I will find out. I promise." He stepped closer, his one good hand reaching for mine.

"Why should I trust you?" my voice came out in a whisper.

"Because you know me more than anyone else."

"I thought I knew you, but then you turned me over to the Cavan. If it wasn't for James and Joel, I would still be there, getting interrogated by your mother."

"I didn't want to. I thought that if she talked to you, she would realize that you don't have the journal and would leave you alone."

I didn't trust myself to speak.

"Gallagher girl."

I shook my head, swallowing the lump in my throat.

"Cammie, you need to trust me on this," he pleaded, "Something isn't right. I need you to get away from James and Joel."

"What? Why?"

"They think I'm behind all this, they won't trust me yet," he sighed, dismayed, "but I need to get you somewhere safe. Something they haven't done."

I was torn. James and Joel had saved my life so many times, I owed them that much. But Zach… Zach was right. His eyes searched mine hopefully, looking for consent. James and Joel would be safer without me and they would undoubtedly move faster.

"What do I need to do?" I asked, swallowing resignations and trying to put on a brave face. He smiled.

He told me the plan.

"One last thing. I need you to take this with you," he pulled an old worn journal out of his pocket; "It was your dad's diary. It's what the Cavan is looking for. When we get to the rendezvous spot, I have a friend that will keep it safe until everything calms down." I nodded and took it.

"Why can't you take it?" I asked, curious.

"I have to go through Cavan territory, I can't risk having it with me, they might find it."

"Oh. Will you be safe?"

"Don't worry about me, I can take care of myself," he reassured me, lifting my chin to meet his gaze. "I have to go before James and Joel get back. I'll be waiting for you." He hesitated before slowly pressing his lips to mine and vanishing into the early morning light.

I let out a long sigh, rubbing my thumb against the worn leather of the journal. I tucked it into the waistband of my jeans and sat down on the abandoned sofa, allowing my eyes to fall shut and my body to rest.

Tomorrow, our plan was going into action.

**A/N Cue suspenseful music….now. **


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N I hate writer's blocks.**

"Let her sleep," a soft voice pulled me into consciousness, "she's had a long day."

I opened my eyelids and peered through a minute slit. James carried a bulky duffle bag out of the room and Joel stopped, momentarily, before sighing and following James out of the room.

My eyes shifted to the window. Rays of dusk light streamed through, highlighting the dust particles in the air as they swirled. I shifted into a more comfortable position. Chafing against my midsection reminded me of the plan. Squeezing my eyes shut, I begged forgiveness for what I had to do.

_Zach's hand slipped a cool, metal ball into my jacket pocket. _

"_This will give you enough time to escape."_

"_Why can't I just come with you right now?" He sighed._

"_If they came back and found you missing, they would automatically know it was me," he explained, his hand lingering at my waist, "but if they think it's you planning the escape, they're going to think of places you would go, not places where I would go." I nodded, understanding._

My fingers closed around the ball as I stood up, loudly yawning James and Joel. The light shuffling in the other room hesitated momentarily. A head popped around the corner.

"Sorry if we woke you up." It was Joel. He came over to sit on the chair next to mine. "How are you holding up?"

"I'm fine," I replied, not meeting his eyes. I glanced toward the window. "How long have you been gone?"

"A few hours."

"Where did you go? 

"Classified," he smirked.

"Right." I rolled my eyes and stood up. Joel followed me into what once had been the kitchen.

James hovered over the table. Tiny, white boxes littered the dusty surface.

"What's all this?" I reached over and grabbed a box.

"Equipment for the next part of the mission," James responded shortly. I opened the box and turned it over. A miniscule earpiece fell into my palm. Across the table, Joel also opened a box and took out a button.

"Surveillance camera," Joel explained. "Do you know how to sew?" I nodded, silently thanking Madame Dabney. He reached into a duffel on the floor and pulled out a thick, flannel, button-down shirt and the first aid kit. He deftly yanked a button from the shirt and tossed it and the kit over to me.

When the camera was sturdily attached, I looked up. I quickly tore my eyes away but not before my eyes noticed all the scars that crisscrossed Joel's bare chest above the now-small bandage. I threw the shirt at him blindly, the angry scars burning into the back of my eyelids.

The moment was here. My fingers closed around the ball.

"I'll be right back," Joel tossed over his shoulder as he left the room. I cursed myself internally for not acting quicker.

"It was an interrogation."

"What?" my brow furrowed, not understanding what James meant.

"Joel's scars," he continued, not looking up from a comms unit, "he got them from an interrogation. He was working on taking down a group of radical circle members when one of the radicals captured his partner. Joel let himself get caught in order to give Marissa time to escape. They went to the extreme trying to extract information from him.

"He almost died. Barny took care of him, but he… he was never the same after that. That's what Marissa wanted me to tell you. She wanted you to understand why he is the way he is."

I swallowed the hard lump in my throat, "That's awful."

"It was. But don't go around feeling sorry for him. He's not one for pity." I nodded in understanding.

"Did you tell her the plan?" Joel asked as he walked back into the room. I didn't look up from my hands. The ball waited expectantly in them. My heart wrenched at the thought but before I could change my mind, I let it drop to the ground.

Instantaneously, a small crack appeared in the smooth surface and the gas poured out silently. Before James or Joel could say anything, I spun on my heel and walked out the door into the cool air.

Glancing back through the window, I saw James struggling for consciousness while Joel lay, unmoving, on the floor. James' eyes caught mine for a fraction of an instant; confusion flashing in their green depths.

I ran.

**A/N I, Jane Doe Smith, vow to try to be more consistent in my writing and publishing of this story. Signed: **_**J.D. Smith**_


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N Turns out I am really bad at commitments. Go figure. Anyhoo, here ya go.**

One foot in front of the other. Something hot and wet covered my cheeks and blurred my vision. Branches reached out and clawed at my clothes as I dodged trees. I stumbled but kept running.

Light began to sift through the trees in front of me. I ran faster, cutting my hands when I fell again. I stepped out into the clearing. The morning dawn sent sunlight shimmering over the dewy grass. Wild flowers waved in the faint breeze and birds chirped freely in the safety of the trees that surrounded the clearing.

I took a deep breath, letting the sweet air swirl in my lungs before pushing it back into the morning atmosphere.

My eyes grazed the plain. An old tree at the edge of the clearing beckoned. Sighing in exhaustion, I slumped onto the ground next to it and rested my head against the smooth bark.

Suddenly, the air was full of chopper blades. Tree branch were bent violently towards the ground.

This was not part of the plan.

Two masked figures rappelled into the clearing. I scrambled back onto my feet. My body crouched automatically in defense as the figures steadily made their way to me.

"Získat ji!" one called in a very masculine voice. Google translate roared to life in my head and spit the translation out of my mouth.

"Get it?"

"Give us the book!" the second figure shouted in heavy accented English.

Oh. The journal everyone was dying over. Right.

Time for the good old college try.

"I don't have it!" I yelled over the hovering aircraft, stumbling over a root as I retreated into the woods.

I waited for them to shrug, wave their goodbyes and leave. No such luck. Go figure, life as a spy was bound to have its downsides.

They split up, circling around to each side of me. My back thudded against the tree and a shiver wrecked havoc down my spine. The figures moved closer, stepping deliberately. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and let all instinct loose. My hands moved, grabbing the branch above me. My abs groaned in protest as my body swung up onto the branch. My feet found purchase in the branches bark. One in front of the other, they moved me forward until I was full out running. I crouched and reached through air.

I was flying.

Course rappelling rope burned my palms. The helicopter jerked with the sudden burden of my weight. The pilot tried desperately to shake me off, but it was too late. Like Tarzan, I released the rope and was soaring to the other end of the clearing. My shoulder hit the ground first, rolling me onto my feet.

"Cammie!"

My name carried through the wind to my ears. I didn't stop. Didn't turn. Didn't acknowledge him. A ferocious grin spread across my face as adrenaline pulsed through my veins. I was running once more.

**A/N ta-da! **


	18. Chapter 18

I finally managed to stumble to a stop a few miles later. The sound of the chopper blades had faded long ago but the sound of his voice calling my name still rang through my mind. Part of me wanted to feel confused. Why was he there? Why was he with the people that had attacked me? I wave of guilt rolled through my stomach. Maybe they weren't trying to kidnap me, maybe they were just trying to help. That would explain why he was with them. But no. He made up the plan and he would never change the plan without telling me. He would tell me. Wouldn't he?

I shook my head. My eyelids were heavy and every inch of my body was covered in tiny scratches from the brambles I was constantly running through. I estimated that I had only gone 1.43 miles out of the way. I yawned and decided that I could probably make up the lost distance tonight. I found a hidden, shady nook and crawled in, willing myself not to think of the bugs. I was too tired. I fell asleep.

When I woke up, I immediately knew something was wrong. The moon was rising over the horiszon. I scampered to my feet, and judging by the stiffness in my legs, I had slept far longer than I had intended. Rubbing my eyes awake, I regained my bearings and quickly started off. I was supposed to meet Zach at nightfall. I shuddered to think what conclusion he might have come to when I didn't show up on time.

An hour later, I reached the edge of the woods. There was a tiny town. If you could even call it that. There was a gas station and post office and little else. A rustic red pickup sat behind the gas station. I quietly made my way over and opened the door, finding the keys in the ignition, just as Zach had promised. The engine rumbled to life.

A soft groan escaped my lips. I'd always wanted a car, but getting one had always been kinda low on the priorities list.

As promised, the tank was full and a map lay on the passenger seat. I didn't even touch it; I knew where I was going. It wasn't an hour later that I pulled up to the old haunt. My safe haven when I had first run away and the same place where I had first thought that Zach had betrayed me. It was almost de ja vu. Even now, after hearing his voice from the clearing my gut churned with the evil possibility that Zach was still working to bring me to the circle.

I pushed the thoughts aside and, after checking that the old street was empty, slipped inside. I tiptoed as fast as I could up the too-many flights of stairs and by the time I had reached the roof entrance I was gasping for breath and burning up. I shrugged off my jacket and folded it over one arm. Taking a deep breath and running a trembling hand through my hair, I stepped out onto the roof.

He stood on the edge, looking out at the dark city, his silhouette could barely be made out against the horizon. A smile spread across my face. His plan had worked. We were going to run away, but this time we would be together, and no one would be the wiser. I nearly ran to him in all my excitement and wrapped my arms around his torso. He turned and bent to reach my lips.

My giddiness felt strange, a new feeling now pulling at my stomach. He tasted all wrong. I tried to pull away but his strong hands held me to him. I pushed against him and felt disfigured skin beneath his shirt. I clawed at his hands. The blood dripped onto my shoulders. I tore at his face but met no reaction. My heart hammered in my chest. He pushed me to the ground and wiped his face with his sleeve. I gasped for air, my voice finally coming out in a hoarse whisper.

"What are you doing here, Joel?"


	19. Chapter 19

I scrambled to my feet. A quick glance over my shoulder saw the fifteen story drop I was near. The cool metal of a gun pressed against the skin at the base of my throat. His hands dripped blood from where I had clawed him. My breath caught and stuttered. I stepped back, a foot closer the edge of the building.

"You want the long version or the short version?" he asked, a smirk playing evilly on his lips. A police siren sounded in the distance. He cocked his ear, "Short version it is then." Another step towards the edge under the watchful eye of the gun.

"James and Zach were always the Boss's favorites. Of course. They were her children. But she loved them too much. She turned a blind eye when Zach started to work against the Circle and another blind eye when James joined him. The only time she ever showed any angst against them was when she was in front of her men. But even then, back in the caves at Blackthorne, she prevented Zach's death and, consequently, lost the diary. She would never admit it, but she wasn't the leader she once was. She was too soft." He growled and prodded me closer to the edge, "The Circle needs a stronger leader. I intend to be that leader. So, I began taking things into my own hands. My first assignment; take down the opposition. I pretended to join James and Zach in their little quest to take down the Circle. Zach had gotten farther than I had thought he would with Solomon's help, but it was no matter. I quickly developed a plan to silence any question of his support for the circle. If he shot his best friend, who was known for trying to take down the circle, with his signature weapon, everyone would think he'd gone back to the Cavan. Are you following my logic? It really wasn't hard, I know people.

"You see, during the interrogation that gave me this," he tilted his head ever-so-slightly to illuminate the scar with the glow of the moon, "they went a little too far, did a little too much damage. They mutilated a vital nerve in my spine and ever since, I have been free of pain. While the gunshot wound was difficult to move with, it didn't hurt. No one questions the pain of a man who's been shot. It was perfect. You, however, posed a problem. You weren't really supposed to show up. But James is a softie like his dear-ole-mother and dragged you along.

"I'll admit, you slowed me down. The amnesia was a bit of an accident. I had meant to give you chloroform with a bit a truth serum and then get you alone and have you tell me where the diaries were, but you were all too willing to take a big whiff and knocked yourself out.

"Then, we got to the safe house and Zach found you. What neither of you knew was that I had planted a bug in the room before we had left. I had a hunch that Zach would come calling, he was always right behind us, just waiting to get you alone. And then he told you, and subsequently me, exactly what his plan was and where you were going. The only problem was James. I couldn't take the journal or get you alone without his knowing, so when you left, I offered to follow you while he stayed and held down the base. He agreed, obviously, and I easily made it here before you. Then all I had to do was wait."

He jabbed the gun again into my throat and I stumbled back, even closer to the edge.

"I guess you know the rest."

"Just one last question," I protested as he once again pushed me backwards.

He smirked, looking cool, confident, the face of an assassin, "Yes, Chamelon?"

"How do you feel about free fall?"

He raised an eyebrow just as his arm was shoved upward. A shot fired. i was pushed to the ground. Arms encircled Joel's torso, making his eyes widen in a confused panic. A mass of arms and legs struggled. Someone tripped. Zach and Joel fell over the edge.


	20. Chapter 20

My heart stopped. My lungs pushed out their air. I fell to the edge, staring with trembling fear into the blackness of the streets. I clawed at the rooftop, pulling myself to my feet and stumbling, headlong, back to the stairwell at uncautionary speeds. I half-ran, half-flew down the flights. The cool of the handrail and the damp of the stairs felt oppressive against my flaming skin and burning eyes.

The floors were endless. An eternity had passed before the exit appeared. I ran through the door, breaking into the silent night. My heels dug into the pavement, my heart beat in a disbelieving rhythm.

"No…" I gasped. This couldn't be happening. Not again. No. no. No, no, no! Two broken bodies lay, unmoving and still tangled, on the dirty pavement. One shaking foot stepped in front of the other until they could no longer support my unresponsive body. I crumpled to my knees beside Zach's still body. Slowly, I reached out and took hold of his shoulder, pulling him toward me and rolling him over. His eyes stared, unfixed, and his mouth hung open with blood gathered at its corners. His neck stuck out at an unnatural angle. There was no pulse beneath my fingertips.

"Cammie?" a voice pulled me from my reverie, "what happened?" it was James. His eyes followed mine to his brother's dead body.

"They'll be here any moment," his voice was but a broken whisper, "You have to go." I didn't move. I couldn't.

"CAMMIE!" he shouted, tears running down his face, "They'll kill you! GO!" he shoved me. I picked myself up.

"GO!"

I stepped backwards. My breath hitching as I turned and ran blindly down an alley. The wail of tires moving purposefully and vengefully echoed behind me. A female, feral scream pierced the dark silence. A single, resounding gunshot rang and the squeal of tires returned and faded.

It was all over.

The end.

**A/N Sorry, I don't always like happy endings. If you hate me… so be it.**

**Truth be told, I don't really care all that much for this fanfic of mine. Too many weaknesses and loose ends…. Perhaps next time I will write the entire story before publishing any of it. Who knows?**


	21. Good tidings of great joy for my readers

Alrighty folks… Here's the deal. I don't like where my story veered off to in ch. 9 ish. It wasn't until How I Make Lemonade's true and awakening comment on the last chapter that I realized that I needed to change it. So I'm going to. I will finish it completely before I post anything so as to not leave y'all hanging too much. Keep an eye out for updates. I'm feeling motivated today and I want to do this story right… thanks. Especially to HIML.


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